


More Precious Than Any Treasure

by DepravedAndUnstable



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dragons, Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, M/M, Possessive Behavior, Scenting, True Mates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-26
Updated: 2015-04-26
Packaged: 2018-03-19 17:19:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3617925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DepravedAndUnstable/pseuds/DepravedAndUnstable
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry is a knight. Tom is the dragon he’s been sent to slay.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> It's been a whole month since I've updated anything and here I am starting a new story. Don't hate me?

 

Harry rode into the town just as rain started to fall from the blanket of grey clouds hovering in the sky. Little droplets of water began to cascade down, and he pulled up the hood on his wool cloak in a poor attempt to shield himself the worst of it. Glancing around he got the distinct impression he’d entered a ghost town. The streets were devoid of any sign of life and the buildings were struggling to stay standing, a few had failed.

He lead Hedwig carefully threw the deserted streets in search of a dry place to take cover for the night. They trotted down the main road, Hedwig’s hooves sinking deeper into the mud with every step. Harry noted, with regret, that her beautiful snowy coat was now covered in a pasty brown layer, the pure white only peeking out here and there in random patches. After being on the road for such a long time it was no wonder she’d gotten dirty, but he still felt ashamed for having let it get so bad.

They’d nearly made it clear through to the other side of the small town when a sign managed to catch Harry’s eye despite the rain. He squinted and could barely make out the words ‘Hog’s Head Inn’ in faded golden letters. After scrutinizing the building the sign was attached to, Harry was relieved to see a faint light slipping underneath the dingy curtains hanging in its windows. He dismounted, trusting Hedwig to stay put, and trudged through the mud up to the door. He attempted to open it and slip inside, but the heavy wood wouldn’t budge. Locked.

He ducked under the eaves, pressing in as closely to the door as he could to avoid the pouring rain. The water had thoroughly soaked him through by now. It had seeped into every layer of clothing he had and he feared that if he didn’t get dry soon he’d become too sick to continue his journey. He raised a gloved hand and knocked hard on the battered door. He was shaking and his teeth were chattering by the time the door was cracked open, and a sliver of candlelight was cast upon Harry’s face.

“What do you want?” An old scraggly voice, accompanied by a single glaring blue eye through the crack, greeted him. “I’m warning you, I’m armed.”

Harry held up his hands in what he hoped was a nonthreatening manner, and tried to look as innocent as possible. The old man’s glare only narrowed.

“The sign,” Harry gestured above his head to where said sign creaked in the rising wind. The movement was sharply tracked. “It says this is an inn, and I wanted to buy a room for the night.”

“We’re closed.”

Harry grimaced and tried not to let his sorry state affect his manners. “You and the rest of town it appears. There’s nowhere else. Please, I only want to stay for the night. I promise to be gone first thing in the morning.”

“I said, _we’re closed_.” He repeated. “Now get lost.”

“Please sir, I’ve been on the road for a very long time.” Harry reached into his pocket and pulled out a soggy bag. The coins within clinked together audible as he held it up for the man to see. “I can pay you. I have money.”

“Closed means closed.” The door slammed shut and Harry just stood there and watched his chances of a hot meal and a warm bed vanish before his eyes. He would have been angry, if he weren’t so cold. He was too numb to waste any energy on anger. He was about to turn and leave, maybe find a nice dry spot in one of the collapsed buildings, when a woman’s voice from inside the Hog’s Head made him pause.

“Oh honestly, Aberforth!”

Harry didn’t move, didn’t breath, he barely dared to let himself believe it. The door burst open, and there stood a women with the brightest red hair he’d ever seen.

“It’s five Galleons for the night. Seven if you want meals included.” Her gaze flickered over his shoulder then back. “And it’ll be another three for a stall in the stables.”

“But Ginny-“

“We need the money and you know it.”

Harry quickly counted out the ten coins before she could change her mind and handed them over. The red head, Ginny, checked the amount and pocketed them. She gave a nod over her shoulder to the old man, who as it turns out was not actually armed. He reluctantly grabbed a heavy cloak and ducked outside, grumbling the whole way. He walked up to Hedwig, gently removed the bags she was carrying and threw them at Harry. Hedwig snorted, unamused by the treatment of her rider. She looked toward Harry, as if to ask permission to bite the man that was now pulling on her reigns, but he just shrugged. The horse allowed Aberforth to guide her away, presumably to the stables to care for her.

“Come in before you catch your death!” Ginny waved him inside and he entered the warm building gratefully, dragging his bags behind him. She led him through the Hog’s Head which was likely one of the dirtiest, grimiest inns Harry had ever been in, but it was dry and warm and that was more than enough for right now.

The red head brought him upstairs to a simple room with not much more than a small bed in the corner. It looked like paradise. She left and he dug through his bags, laying everything out carefully to dry. He took special care with his armor and sword, a bit worried that they’d rust.

He’d just finished when Ginny returned with a large bucket of steaming water and a rag. It wasn’t quite the hot bath he’d been hoping for, but it was nearly as good, and he couldn’t stop thanking her for it. She blushed nearly as bright as her hair, mumbled something incoherent about dinner, and flew from the room.

Harry busied himself with stripping off his muddy soaked clothes, and washed himself off with the bucket of heavenly water. He didn’t stop until the liquid was murky and cold. Searching through his belongings he found the least damp shirt and pair of trousers and put them on.

He headed downstairs and was greeted by a mouth-watering smell. Ginny was setting a table in the corner for three and Harry walked over and offered to help. She blushed again and snapped at him that he was a paying customer and paying customers aren’t supposed to work. She pointed at one of the chairs, and he obediently sat down and waited for dinner.

She’d just brought out a large pot full of whatever was making that delicious smell when Aberforth returned. He burst in through the door, dripping mud everywhere, and still muttering to himself. He didn’t bother to change, just dropped his filthy cloak on the filthy floor and heaved himself into the chair across from Harry. They all dug in immediately, too invested in shoveling the flavorful stew into their mouths to be able to hold much of a conversation.

They’d each finished their first bowl and helped themselves to a second when Harry broke the silence.

“So what happened to this town?”

Understandably, Ginny and Aberforth exchanged dark uneasy glances before a reply came. Aberforth gave it.

“Dragon.”

That was it and he returned his attention back to his food, content to leave it at that. Harry, however, was not. He pressed.

“So then the rumors are true? There’s really a dragon in these mountains?”

Aberforth grunted affirmatively and shoved another spoonful into his mouth. “You’d best get out of these parts as quickly as you can. We’ll be leaving in a few days ourselves, as soon as we’ve got everything packed. Most everyone else has already gone or is on their way out. There’s nothing much left for us here.”

“Do you know exactly where the dragon’s lair is?” It would possibly save him days and it would definitely save him from a great deal of stress if he knew where to head and from where to expect an attack.

Ginny’s spoon clattered loudly into her bowl and her bright eyes glared accusingly at him. “Is that why you’re here? Fancy yourself a dragon hunter, do you?”

Harry became flustered, unsure exactly what had set the red head off on him. Most people would be happy to have their local fire-breathing pest taken care of. “Uh, well, yeah” was the most articulate answer he could manage.

This answer didn’t calm Ginny, it did the exact opposite. She slammed her hands down on the table, and raised herself to her full height. “Do you know what we call the dragon in these parts, stranger? Voldemort. _Voldemort_.” She spat. “It means flight of death. Do you know how it earned that name? No. Of course not. You’re not from around here and you have no idea what that thing is capable of. You have no idea the number of lives it’s ruined, the number of lives it’s _taken_.”

She rounded the table, and crowded into Harry’s space, full of nothing but anger and sharp words. “Do you honestly believe you’re the first boy with a sword that waltzed into the mountains thinking they could slay the beast and become a hero? Well you’re not! Countless other idiots have gone off to fight that thing and not a single one has ever come back down. So if you’ve got anything at all in that head of yours then you’ll do the smart thing and turn your ass around. Go back home.”

She deflated then, as if that small fit of anger had worn her out. She returned to her seat and picked her spoon back up, but she did nothing more than push around what was left in her bowl. “There’s no one left to save here anyway.”

Shocked, Harry took a few moments to process what he’d just been told. He got the feeling this woman had lost more than he could imagine. He wondered how many of the ‘countless other idiots’ she’d been close to. If they’d been friends. If they’d been family.

“I’m sorry.” He murmured softly, but she acted as if she hadn’t heard him, just continued playing with her food.

Aberforth cleared his throat and then in an uncharacteristically kind action he attempted to change the subject. He turned to Harry. “She is right though. You are a stranger. Got a name?”

Harry was horrified to realize he’d never introduced himself. “I’m so sorry! Here I am a guest (Aberforth mumbled under his breath “paying customer”) who’s been welcomed into your home (“inn” he interjected again) and I haven’t even introduced myself yet.” He placed his right fist over his heart and tilted his head forward in a shallow bow as a sign of respect. “I am Sir Harry James Potter. It is an honor to make your acquaintance.”

Ginny became bright red again after his introduction, and her anger seemed to have been forgotten. “I-I’m Ginny Weasley,” She stammered, “And this is Aberforth.”

Harry had already learned their names, but he grinned widely in gratitude anyway. Ginny’s blush darkened, and he found that he was beginning to think it was rather sweet.

“Harry Potter the Serpent Slayer.” Harry’s attention snapped back to Aberforth, startled that someone so far from Hogwarts would know that title.

“You’ve heard of me.”

“Aye. You’re the Order of The Phoenix’s golden boy.” He stood from his chair, and walked over to the bar on the other side of the room. He popped open a dusty bottle full of a dark liquor and took a swig. “The Serpent Slayer. I’ve heard that if it’s got scales on it, you’ll kill the beast and skin it.”

Harry scrunched up his nose. “I’ve never skinned anything before.”

“Now back up a step,” Ginny interrupted. “What’s all this about? What’s the Order of The Phoenix?”

The old man sat down heavily on one of the bar stools and continued drinking from the bottle like it was full of water and not alcohol. “It’s not too surprising you’ve never heard of them. They’re old. There’s no other order around that can boast a longer history, but they’re also dying out. Their reach and numbers aren’t what they used to be. Most of the people that were around here thought the Order was nothing more than a myth.”

“But what is it?”

Harry decided to answer that question himself. “As Aberforth said, we are an old order, one that’s been around for longer than written history. We have no master, answer to no king or lord, and have only one purpose: to protect innocent people from malicious magical creatures.” He smiled wryly. “And word reached us that you’ve got a particularly nasty one in the area. Sorry it took me so long to get here.”

Aberforth finished off the last of the bottle, and threw it over his shoulder. Miraculously it didn’t shatter, just bounced loudly across the floor. Ginny began slowly gathering up the dishes, as no one was interested in the food now. “So then, you’re an expert in this kind of thing? Dragon slaying?”

Harry gave his most charming of smiles, “They don’t call me the Serpent Slayer for nothing.”

Aberfoth snorted. “They call you the Serpent Slayer because you’ve got a serpent’s tongue.”

Harry was again unnerved that this man knew so much. The Order of the Phoenix was not nearly as famous as it used to be. Its members, which centuries ago would have been sung about loudly across the country, were today rarely known by name anywhere but around Hogwarts, the Orders headquarters. But this man knew his name and more. A spark of curiosity ignited within his chest and caught aflame. But it didn’t look like it would be quenched any time soon, as the old man was making his way up the stairs.

Ginny shooed Harry away upstairs as well, insisting that he needed a good night’s rest more than anything right now. He walked to his room with slow and heavy steps. Now that he was no longer being distracted by food or conversation the weariness from his travels returned in full force. He collapsed onto the bed provided for him, and twisted out of his shirt, throwing it off the floor.

He wanted to sleep, his aching body needed him to sleep, but he couldn’t. Despite his exhaustion, his nerves were abuzz.

He’d lied at dinner when he’d lead Ginny to believe that the dragon would be no problem for him. Ginny had already been through so much and, for whatever reason, in the few hours that they’d known each other she’d begun to worry about him. He didn’t want that. He wanted her to go find her new life somewhere far away and without the shadow of worry hanging over her. The truth was he had no idea how he’d fair against a dragon. Even with an impressive title like the Serpent Slayer, he’d never laid eyes on one. Dragons weren’t exactly common in this country. That didn’t mean he hadn’t earned his title, and it wasn’t just because he had a ‘serpents tongue’ either. The Order loved sending him out after anything with even a drop of snake’s blood in its veins. He’d fought off countless nagas, taken out packs of chimera, beaten back quite a few wyvern, and even defeated a basilisk once. But never a dragon.

Dragons were said to be not only the kings of serpents but of all mythical creatures. They were more than just giant flying fire-breathing lizards, they were also deviously clever and fiercely protective of what they viewed as their own. Harry was equal parts eager and terrified to finally go head to head with one. It would be the most difficult battle he’d ever fought.

His sleep that night was light and fitful.


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The cavern was filled with what could only be the dragon's hoard. But it wasn’t what Harry had been expecting. Not exactly. Sure there were piles of silver and gold and gems of every color, but there was also a great deal of… well… junk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! Chapter two is all done :)
> 
> I'm trying to work on my imagery, so there's much more of it here than usual for my work. Some constructive criticism would be really nice :) I'm trying to get better.
> 
> And thank you all for the comments and kudos! I'm really happy that this story has gotten so much interest! Anyway, enjoy!

 

True to his word, Harry left the inn the next morning. The rain had mostly died down to a light drizzle by dawn, and he suspected it would clear up entirely before midday. Ginny had packed him enough food to last until he reached his destination, which despite her protests he insisted on paying for. Aberforth was reluctantly helpful enough to give him directions to where Voldemort’s lair was rumored to be located. He sketched out a crude map that was so confusing and unproportionate that Harry was unsure if it would be more of a help or a hindrance. He thanked him anyway, but Aberforth only shrugged then went back into his empty inn without another word.

Harry squinted after him, his face contemplative. He was a strange old man, who knew more than he should. And he seemed, oddly enough, familiar to Harry, though he was sure they’d never met before yesterday.

Ginny wandered over, her shoulders tense. “Here.” She mumbled and thrust a folded handkerchief at him with trembling hands. It was nothing particularly extravagant, just a plain white piece of fabric with the initials G.W. carefully embroidered into a corner in maroon thread.

Harry reached out and accepted the gift from her.

“I know it’s nothing special, but I thought… well isn’t a maiden’s token supposed to bring luck? I just thought…” she trailed off, looking painfully unsure of herself.

Harry flashed a dazzling row of white teeth at her. “Thank you, Ginny. I’m sure it’ll bring me luck.” He placed the token in his breast pocket, right over his heart, as was custom. “When will you and Aberforth be leaving?”

Ginny nervously twisted her fingers into the fabric of her skirts. “Tomorrow. We’ll be long gone by the time you come back this way.” Her fingers stilled. “You will won’t you? Come back?”

“Of course.”

“Promise me,” she demanded, her eyes searching his desperately. “Promise me that you won’t die, too.”

He felt a stab of guilt. That wasn’t the kind of promise he could make, not truthfully at least. He had no way of knowing if he’d manage to survive this next fight, but he plastered on a confident expression anyway. “I promise.”

She studied his face, looking for any hint of a lie, but could find nothing that gave him away. Her gaze dropped to the ground. “Maybe we’ll see each other again. We’re heading east. Aberforth says he has a brother out that way. Harry, I…” She trailed off again, and Harry was amazed to see her turn a brighter shade of red than ever before. Without warning, she launched herself up onto her tiptoes and pressed her lips to his cheek. Before he could even react she was already pulling back. She spun around and ran into the inn, the door slamming shut behind her. He was given no chance to respond.

Harry stared at the door for a few moments, but then shook his head, putting the whole thing out of his mind. It wouldn’t be at all helpful to his quest if he became distracted now.

He mounted Hedwig and they rode out of the empty town at a brisk pace. Harry might not have slept very well last night, but it was apparent that Hedwig had. She was bustling with energy and anxious to get moving.

They made good time, only stopping for lunch and the occasional rest, and by the time the sun had started to set they’d managed reached the base of the mountain that Aberforth had told him about. Harry stopped and set up camp under a crop of trees with branches that gave them some cover from the sky. He didn’t dare start a fire, least it draw unwanted attention, but the nights were still warm enough so there wasn’t much need for one.

Summer was only just beginning to fade and there was only the barest hint of a chill in the air.

For dinner Harry polished off the bread and cheese Ginny had given him. He was almost tempted to save some food for his return trip, but years of experience told him it was far more important that he be well fed for his fight tomorrow. He could suffer a few nights of hunger if it increased the chances that he’d live to see them.

He fell asleep that night on hard ground, beneath the open starry sky. He slept much better than he had in the inns soft bed.

Harry awoke just as the sun began rising over the mountains. The deep red color it cast gave him an ominous feeling, but he shook it off. There would be a battle today. Blood would, of course, be spilt. But that didn’t necessarily mean it would be his blood.

For the first time in what felt like ages he donned his armor. Harry wore an armor that was as beautiful as it was practical. It was made of thick irons that protected him from the brunt of most attacks and on his chest was an artfully crafted golden phoenix, rising up from the flames. His shield bore his family crest, a lion poised and ready to lash out at its enemies, its mouth opened in a silent roar. His sword was an old heirloom, and easily the grandest piece of his battle ensemble. Its golden hilt was encrusted with rubies, both large and small, and inscribed elegantly on its blade was the name ‘Godric Gryffindor’.

A familiar thrill thrummed through Harry’s veins. There was something about wearing the armor that unleashed something primal inside of him. Most civilized people didn’t understand, but every warrior Harry had ever spoken to felt something similar before a fight. It was as elating.

He left Hedwig at the bottom of the mountain. Even if she was willing to make the climb, which the cross look in her eye told him she most certainly was not, he’d much rather have her away from the danger. If he won then she would be here waiting for him. If he lost then… well… she was smart enough to find her way home without him.

The trek up the mountain was hard going. The path was difficult to see, and Harry had to back track more than once to find it again after wandering off. It was dangerously steep, and he found himself more often than not clinging onto rocks with his hands to keep from falling backwards.

According to the map Aberforth had drawn, the dragon had made its home in a cave with an entrance about halfway up the mountain. It took him hours to work out where it was, and when he finally found it he was half convinced the old man had sent him in the wrong direction. The entrance was barely large enough for Harry to squeeze through, let alone a fully grown dragon. However he wasn’t entirely keen on making the journey back down the mountain without at least investigating.

Harry ventured into the cave.

Darkness engulfed the knight almost immediately, his eyes scarcely able to help him avoid walking into the cave walls. Not interested in getting knocked out before even facing Voldemort, Harry gripped the hilt of his sword, scrunched together his eyebrows in concentration, and murmured “Lumos.” A small orb of light, no bigger than his fist materialized into existence in front of him. It hovered in the air just within reaching distance and cast enough light to banish all the shadows in the small space.

At first Harry had to move forward slowly. He was forced to maneuver his body into awkward angles so he could fit through the  tight space and avoid bruising any appendages. The orb bobbed patiently in front of him, shinning the way. Eventually, the tunnel began to widen and Harry was able to walk more easily. It continued to widen until it let out into a colossal cavern and it was then that he became convinced he was in the right place.

The cavern was filled with what could only be the dragon's hoard. But it wasn’t what Harry had been expecting. Not exactly. Sure there were piles of silver and gold and gems of every color, but there was also a great deal of… well… junk.

Harry cautiously stepped into the cavern, mindful not to step on anything, and looked around curiously. The large chamber was full of seemingly random objects. There were broken pieces of furniture, most of which were no longer functional, shattered bottles with congealed liquids still clinging to the scattered shards, giant chess pieces, ripped paintings, empty frames, rolls of fabric, elegant dresses, the list went on and the piles rose high over Harry’s head. His eyes roved over them all, filled with curiosity. He was more interested in the odds and ends than in the actual treasure. Honestly, what did a giant fire breathing lizard need with a half-rotted rocking chair?

Seeing no sign of the dragon itself, Harry ventured forward into the towering piles, careful to avoid stepping on the broken glass and bits of parchment that littered the floor. It was like a maze, and after a few turns he wasn’t entirely sure he could find his way back to the tunnel.

He continued onward, starring unabashedly at the dragons treasure. He wove between mountains of jewel encrusted armors, empty cauldrons, and old boots. He paused at a pile of books, some looked incredibly rare and valuable but most of them were worth next to nothing. All were thrown hazardously together to collect dirt and dust on the damp cavern floor.

The farther inward Harry traveled, the lighter it became, until it was clear how the dragon managed to come and go from its home. The ceiling dipped downward, before inclining sharply up and opening to the sky outside. The yawning hole in the cavern's ceiling let in a few weak rays.

With a thought he allowed the orb of light to fade away. This far in, the cavern was bright enough that it was no longer needed.

He turned a corner, passing by a wardrobe with all its drawers missing, and froze. There, not twenty feet away, bathing in the rays of light, was the dragon.

Harry quickly drew his sword, instinct taking over, and pointed it at the beast. A spell was on his lips and-

And the dragon was sound asleep.

The tip of his sword dipped down, wilting after that short burst of adrenaline. Trying to still his rapid heartbeat and quite his heavy breathing, Harry took in Voldemort.

It was magnificent.

It was easily over three times the size of a horse, and it made Harry feel small and miniscule so close to it. It's scales were a sickly, pale white that reflected the light and gave off the illusion that it was glowing. It was curled up tightly, tail wrapped protectively around the rest of it's body and it's head rested on top of it's front legs. For something that had caused so much pain and chaos, it looked remarkably peaceful.

If he was being honest, he was a little disappointed. This was a dragon? This was one of the creatures that had burned it's name into legend with its ferocity and blood thirst? This overgrown lizard that was blissfully sleeping when an enemy had entered it's home, had approached it with the intent of harm. Shouldn't it have heightened senses? Shouldn't it have heard him? Smelt him? Something?

This was the creature that was going to give him the fight of his life?

Voldemort slept on, despite how long Harry had been in its presence and showed no sign of waking any time soon. Harry knew he shouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth. He knew that the smart thing to do would be to cease this advantage while he could. He knew that any sane man would slit the things throat while it slept and a part of him was tempted to do so. It would be so  _easy_. But at the thought the pit of Harry's stomach twisted uncomfortably. That just didn't feel right.

So, instead he did something incredibly stupid and undeniably insane.

He cleared his throat.

The dragon snorted and rubbed it's cheek along it's front leg, disturbed by the sound but not awoken by it. It's nostrils flared and it heaved a great sigh before stilling again.

Harry tried again, this time a bit louder, but it had about the same effect.

Unparalleled predator my ass, he thought bitterly. Then raising his sword and stepping into a defensive stance he called out as loudly as his nerves would allow. "Er, excuse me? Voldemort?"

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> that's right. cliff hanger. 
> 
> *evil laugh*


End file.
